


We Fall to Earth Together

by TheFandomLesbian



Series: Angela's Raulson One-Shots [22]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, No Smut, Romance, foxxay - Freeform, goode-day, raulson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 09:38:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17342948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFandomLesbian/pseuds/TheFandomLesbian
Summary: Taking Cordelia's old instructions as a word of advice, Misty attempts to fight her way out of hell.





	We Fall to Earth Together

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt: Foxxay caught off-guard/surprised kiss.

“The drums, a fire, a calling   
My soul marches out the door.   
We fall to earth together,   
The crowd calling out for more.” -Fleetwood Mac, “Sad Angel”

…

The sound of Cordelia’s voice echoed in Misty’s mind. It was faint, the memory, growing paler by the hour. Granted, hours didn’t really pass here. She didn’t know time any more.

The man grabbed her by the wrist and brought it down on the frog again. The soul cried out to her. She wrapped it up in her blood-stained hands and closed the gaping wound, reviving the poor soul once again.  _ Stronger intent, _ Cordelia had said, and she acted with intent each time he forced her to murder the innocent animal. Each time she amended for her unholy sin, she intended for it to end, yet it didn’t. It would never end. 

Whispered words to her ear echoed. She remembered the tone to Cordelia’s shaking voice. “Sequere lucem… Venite ad me.” That was the last she had heard of the real world. This was the real world, now. 

Each time she recalled the quivering timbre of Cordelia’s voice, she wished she could plunge the blade of the scalpel into her own gut instead the frog. She couldn’t. She had tried once, but her soul wouldn’t bleed. 

“Mr. Kringley, she did it again!”

“If you won’t dissect a dead frog, you’ll dissect a live one!”

Misty clenched her jaw as he seized her wrist. She had to do something. She  _ had _ to do  _ something _ , she couldn’t let this  _ keep happening, _ she couldn’t torture this poor animal for eternity. She whimpered as she dragged her forearm down on top of the frog and forced the scalpel to plunge into the belly of the frog again. The blood squirted out at her and spattered all over her face. 

“Mr. Kringley, she did it again!” 

Misty picked up the scalpel and whirled around on the phantom of her hell. She wielded it like a sword. “No! Not again! Not again!” He smirked. An evil glint glistened deep in his eyes. He spun her around and stabbed the croaking, squirming frog. 

“Mr. Kringley, she did it again!”

_ Stronger intent, _ Cordelia whispered in her mind. Misty grabbed the tray of sharp silver utensils. The man seized her by her waist. She tossed them at his face. “Leave me alone! Just leave me alone!” She flung herself over the desk and broke away, but he grabbed a fist full of her hair and hauled her back. She shrieked. A scalpel appeared in her hand, and he forced it down into the frog’s body, severing its neck this time and flinging the decapitated head across the room.

Misty covered her ears with her hands to keep from hearing the boy cry out his familiar tune.  _ Stronger intent. _ Tears burbled to her eyes.  _ I don’t know how!  _ she wanted to scream.  _ Cordelia, help me! _ Cordelia could not help her here. No one could. She could only help herself. “If you won’t dissect a dead frog, you’ll dissect a live one!”

Shaking her head, she retreated, holding the scalpel out at him. “I  _ won’t. _ ”

He paid no attention to her. The frog died again. 

In her memory, Hank and Cordelia hazed.  _ What would it take? _ the ugly man asked Cordelia as Misty wondered how a witch as powerful and beautiful as Cordelia had ever managed to settle for such a cretin of mankind, and Cordelia’s mismatched eyes darted to Misty as she smiled.  _ More than you’ve got. _ Misty swallowed hard, trying to overcome the dry lump in her throat. Cordelia had looked at her. She had something. She had something. She had to find it, and she had to use it, and she had to get away. She had to make it back to Cordelia.  _ Venite ad me. _ Misty had attended enough church to learn some Latin.  _ Come to me.  _

The last words she had heard Cordelia speak were a plea for her to return. She had to do it. She had to follow through. Cordelia wanted her--she could hear the tears in Cordelia’s voice every time the words echoed through her veins. “If you won’t dissect a dead frog, you’ll dissect a live one!”

She had wasted too much time in thought. 

“Mr. Kringley, she did it again!” 

_ Stronger intent. _ Misty blinked hard, shedding tears from her eyes.  _ More than you’ve got, _ Cordelia had told her husband.  _ Get me some more of that mud.  _ Misty’s fist closed around the scalpel, clutching it like a baseball bat.  _ Stronger intent. _ The man’s hand landed on her shoulder, a weight familiar by now but still unwelcome. 

Whirling around on her heel, Misty plunged the blade of the scalpel into the side of his neck. “Leave me alone!” she shrieked.  _ Stronger intent.  _ He stumbled back, away from her. Blood burbled from his mouth. Misty blindly grabbed tools from the dissection tray and slammed into him, stabbing them into him one by one until he lay unmoving on the tile floor. 

She lifted her head. All of the students had vanished from the classroom. Slowly, the door creaked open, revealing a bright white light. Lip trembling, Misty opened her bloodied hands and approached the glowing, until even her shadow vanished from hell. 

…

A loud shriek and frantic pounding on Cordelia’s door roused her from her sleep. “Cordelia! Cordelia! There’s a zombie!”  _ A zombie? _ The Supreme rolled out of bed and rubbed her eyes with her fists as she opened her bedroom door. Wild-eyed and fearful, Zoe guarded a small crowd of young witches. “Something just dug itself up out of the backyard!”

Cordelia believed them. She had heard of things more incredulous which had come true in this house. “Get everyone upstairs and tell them to lock their doors.” Smoothing down the hem of her sheer nightgown, she headed for the spiral staircase. “Go to bed--All of you, go to your rooms and lock your doors!” Cordelia’s bare feet landed on the wooden stairs as she headed down them. Peering through the kitchen window, the moonlight landed on a dirt-covered figure with its head hung low and its clothing all tattered. Something about it felt familiar, the way it stood so defeated and yet so unyielding, but Cordelia couldn’t place it. Black dirt covered the creature from head to toe, thick clumps in its hair, and marred its eyes and lips from view.  _ That looks like a zombie. _ She prayed this was the only one. 

Opening the back door of the house, Cordelia trotted down the steps into the back yard. The cool night wind caught her nightgown, flapping the skirt up around her knees. The figure’s clothes hung limp, too clogged with soil for the wind to shift them. But eyes slowly lifted from the ground to her, and something about the eyes was cognizant. Cordelia hesitated. “Hello?” The dew licked off of the grass onto her ankles. 

Hands lifted from where they hung limp at her sides. She pushed her filthy hair back out of her face. “Cordelia?” 

Misty’s voice betrayed her identity. Cordelia’s jaw hung slack. Her brain skipped, unable to process the filth-covered body of the woman before her, the grave just a few yards beyond her. “Misty!” She expected the name to emerge from her mouth in a whisper, but instead she screamed it, and her legs were moving and she didn’t know how or why, and her body collided with Misty’s. Misty’s shaking limbs caved beneath her. They both landed on the grass and rolled together, once, twice. 

Cordelia’s mouth filled with dirt. Misty’s arms wrapped around her from behind, and she clung to Misty’s neck as she kissed her, not completely sure why she was kissing her. She broke the kiss and swallowed the grit shedding from Misty’s face. Round, blue eyes reflected the moon in the sky far above them. “Cordelia,” she whispered again. “I can’t believe I--” She swallowed hard. Fat tears fell from her eyes and made tracks down her cheeks, revealing the pale skin underneath. 

Framing Misty’s face with her hands, she wiped the soil away from her eyes with her thumbs. “How--How did you--” Her palms roamed Misty’s face, finding the familiar patterns she had known months ago when she did not have her sight to recognize her. Nothing had changed. The same nose, the same forehead, the same cheekbones all rested beneath her dirty palms. 

Misty blinked furiously. Tears fell from her eyes. “You told me--stronger intent.” Her soil-coated hands touched Cordelia’s tangled hair. “I heard you. Your voice. It was the last thing I heard--I just had to figure out how--how to get back to you.” Cordelia’s tears fell on Misty’s cheeks, wetting the dirt and helping it fall away from her face. “I’m sorry it took me so long… I never wanted to make you wait.” 

Cordelia licked her dirty thumbs to clear the mud off of Misty’s buffering lips. “I would have waited a lifetime for you.” 


End file.
